To keep her soul he said she must fly from the city, where men lose their souls in the rituals of materialism. He must go with her to the pure country, to the woods and to the places where the invisible ones whom the Druids knew ceaselessly ascend and descend from earthto heaven, and from heaven to earth, in flame-colored spirals. He told her he knew of a house by a lake shore, and there they might live in communion with nature, and in the fading lights, and in the quiet hollows of the woods she would learn more of God than she could in the convent. In that house they would live; and their child, if the gods gave them one, would unfold among the influences of music and love and song traditions.
To keep her soul he said she must fly from the city, where men lose their souls in the rituals of materialism. He must go with her to the pure country, to the woods and to the places where the invisible ones whom the Druids knew ceaselessly ascend and descend from earthto heaven, and from heaven to earth, in flame-colored spirals. He told her he knew of a house by a lake shore, and there they might live in communion with nature, and in the fading lights, and in the quiet hollows of the woods she would learn more of God than she could in the convent. In that house they would live; and their child, if the gods gave them one, would unfold among the influences of music and love and song traditions.
It was writing of a similar order in Mildred Lawson that evoked from Harry Thurston Peck the declaration: “George Moore is the greatest literary artist who has struck the chords of English since the death of Thackeray.” George Moore always had the voice. He has now both voice and vision.